


First Child

by Th3_Morrigan



Series: Firsts [2]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Assassin's Creed - Freeform, Dad!assassins, Drabble, F/M, Firsts, Fluff, Kids, Lullabies, SO FLUFFY, infants and toddlers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2018-07-24 19:07:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7519747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Th3_Morrigan/pseuds/Th3_Morrigan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The deadly Assassins as first time dads.<br/>This is the next installment to the Firsts series.</p><p>Please enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Altair

**Author's Note:**

> I do plan to add the other characters to the series. I really do. Promise. Give me time.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Altair as an apprehensive father.

He held the baby at arms length, as if it were a piece of soiled piece of laundry. You had just bathed him so you knew that wasn't why his father was holding him that way.

"Altair, that's your son. He won't bite you. Please hold him properly before you drop him."

Altair thought for a moment before finally holding his son, just like you demonstrated earlier.

This was the first time he had ever laid eyes on him. He had been away on a mission when you gave birth a few weeks ago. He had come straight home when he heard the news. He was more concerned for you and your well, being, momentarily forgetting you had borne him a son.

And now there he was by your bedside, his son in his arms, still at a loss of what to do with him. You studied Altair, the way he looked at his son. There was both wonder and terror on his face. He was a Master Assassin. His hands were used to kill people. He was not sure he trusted himself with the baby, so small and frail in his arms. He was glad you had insisted on him taking his hidden blade off before entering your chamber.

You patted the bed and he sat beside you. 

"He is so small," he said. He traced the baby's cheek with a tentative finger. His touch was timid, unsure.

You wrap your arms around your husband. "And he will grow up to be big and strong, just like his walidi."

He smiled as you nuzzled his neck. 

The baby started to stir in his arms, and began to cry. You felt Altair stiffen beneath your arms. You smiled and kissed him once more.

"Relax, Altair. He's just hungry."

You took the baby from him and you could see relief come over his face. He really had no clue what to do with him.

Sitting up on the pallet, you bared your breast from your tunic and proceeded to feed your infant. Altair watched you, full of curiosity. You had to remind yourself Altair didn't grow up in a normal household. He had no younger brothers or sisters nor his mother when he was growing up.

"Have you thought of a name for our son?"

Altair grew pensive as he thought about it. He touched his son's head as he breastfed. 

"I would like to name him Salil."

"That is a nice name, habibi. He shall be named so."

"Salil Ibn-la'Ahad." Altair smiled at the sound of the name. It was perfect.

Soon, you noticed Altair had started getting drowsy. You urged him to lie down so he could get some rest. He lay down on his side behind you so you could lean on him while you breastfed. 

"Sing us a song, ya hayati," he said, hands stroking your back.

You smile at him and start singing a lullaby. Soon thereafter both your companions are asleep, and for the first time in a very long time, Altair has fallen asleep peacefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 'walidi' means father (formal use)  
> \- Habibi (my love), ya hayati (my life)  
> \- Salil means 'sword' I was looking for another eagle name but Haytham was the only other Islamic one I found and I didn't really want to use that.


	2. Ezio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezio as a thoughtful husband and father.

Ezio was sleeping soundly when you finally got into bed beside him. 

He woke up just enough to take you into his arms and gave you a kiss on the forehead.

"Where have you been, tesoro?" he mumbled, half asleep.

"Putting the little bambino back to bed," you replied sleepily. 

"Sei la mamma migliore mai." 

"Grazie, marito," you said burying yourself against him and finally falling asleep.

You woke up with a start some hours later. The house was quiet. Too quiet. You stretched your arm towards the other side of the bed only to find it empty.

This only added to your disquiet. You usually woke up when Ezio got up. He might have been a stealthy Assassin, but he could never seem to be quiet while getting out of bed when you were asleep. 

Quickly and quietly you got yourself out of bed. Your first thought was your son's safety. You grabbed the dagger you kept in your bedside table and headed down the hall.

The house was dark and still. Your heartbeat sounded like a drum beating in your ears.

You crept up to the door of the nursery. It was open, and for a moment your heart sank. Your fear turned to terror when you saw the room and the cradle were empty.

Panic took hold of you and you willed yourself to be calm. If there was an intruder they could still be around. You moved through the quiet house but found nothing. Then a small sound from the balcony caught your attention.

You moved through the shadows to the door that was slightly ajar.

You heard a man's voice, mumbling, then a baby's coo.

That was all that was needed for you to abandon all caution and let your motherly instincts take over. You opened the door, knife at the ready-

Only to find Ezio rocking the baby in his arms. 

"Nana bobo,  
Nana bobo,  
Tutti i bambini dormen  
E Guido no."

"Ezio!" you say, relieved. "You scared me."

He came towards you and kissed you on the forehead. "He was crying so I took him out here to try and put him to sleep."

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"You looked like you needed some rest, so I let you sleep, mio caro."

You gave him a hug. What did you ever do to deserve such a thoughtful husband?

"Come," you said as you pulled him into the house. "Let's all go back to bed."

The three of you headed for the bedroom ot into the big bed, your child in between you and Ezio. He began his lullaby again.

"Nanna bobo,  
Nana bobo,  
Tutti i bambini dormen  
E guido no."

You had to admit, he didn't have the best singing voice in the world, but it calmed both you and the baby down. 

Soon you and the baby were fast asleep. Ezio kissed you both and continued with the lullaby until he, too, closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I chose this simple tune for Ezio because, if Revelations was any indication of his singing abilities, this would have been the best lullaby for him to sing. And I do like that this melody has some "Byzantine influence in the structure of the song."  
> \- Lyrics and translation here: http://www.kindersite.org/Lullabies/LullabiesIT.htm  
> Hear the song here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7VdQksK90qc


	3. Yusuf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yusuf likes to spoil his girls.

It was market day for you and instead of staying behind to watch Azra, Yusuf insisted on coming along. 

"But who will watch her while we are away," you ask.

"We will bring her along. Think of it as her first trip to the market, isn't that right tatlim?" He asks the toddler in his arms.

She giggles and tugs at his beard. "Baba!"

You smile at the pair, thinking back on the first day Yusuf met his daughter. 

***  
She came into the world quiet. You hadn't noticed the worried looks of the midwives then. You were in too much pain and you looked to Yusuf for strength. It was he who noticed as the midwife holding the baby shook her head. 

"What is it," he asked, worry creeping into his voice. "What is the matter?"

"She is silent, Yusuf bey," the midwife said. "She is not breathing."

"No," he said, as he rushed forward to take the baby in his arms and gently rubber her chest.

"Breathe, tatlim." His eyes were beginning to well up with tears, as were yours. "Please, melegim."

Suddenly there was a tiny sputter and a cough as the baby ejected fluid from her lungs. The cough turned into a weak mewl, which steadily became louder and louder.

Yusuf was openly weeping with joy when the baby was finally bellowing her little lungs out. He placed her beside you when he was sure she was okay.

The baby calmed down then and began nuzzling your breast to suckle.

You looked up at Yusuf and wiped the tears from his cheeks.

"She's okay, thanks to you, askim."

He kissed you on your forehead. "I'm glad both of you are okay."

***

That had been two years ago. Yusuf had been very fond of his little girl right from the start. He was a very hands-on father, when he had the time, and he did make sure to make time.

Just like he was on this market day. He had left the Assassin den to the newly appointed Master Assassin so he could bring his daughter to the market.

You walked hand in hand with your husband. He had Azra on his shoulders. She tugged at his hair every time something caught her eye.

"Baba, look! What's that, baba?"

And Yusuf would would entertain her every question.

"That's a dog, tatlim."

"Dog." She would repeat, and laugh and bury her face in his hair.

He never tired of her questions and the constant tugging at his hair.

When the three of you arrived at the market, her eyes widened at all the pretty things to look at. She tugged Yusuf to go this way and that. You smiled at your husband. Yusuf, the feared master Assassin of Qustantinyye, suddenly helpless under the ministrations of a little girl. 

The trip to the market took longer than you expected. The spice merchant was new you had to haggle your way into a bargain. Before long, Yusuf and Azra had gone their own way and ended up at a little spot under a tree in the gardens near the market.

She laughed gleefully when she saw you approaching.

"Anne! Look!" She held up the treasures she had coerced her father to buy for her.

There was a doll and a few other toys, and a bag of sweets.

You clicked your disapproval to your husband.

"Yusuf, really. You spoil her too much. And sweets!"

He smiled up at you. "Of course, I did not forget you, askim," he said and presented you with a box. Inside was a jade pendant on a simple leather thong. 

"You are bad for the budget as well." You look at Yusuf, trying to be angry, but failing. 

He stands and helps you put on the necklace. 

"And, what pray tell, did you get for yourself, sevgilim?"

He picked his little girl up in one arm and held you close with the other.

"I have all I need right here."

He kisses you sweetly as a sleepy little girl tugs at his hair. 

"Sleep, baba." 

You walk home beside your husband, who sings his little girl a lullaby. She plays with his locks as sleep takes over.

"I love you, baba," she whispers before she falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Baba means dad in turkish. I just think that's the cutest. Anne is mother  
> \- Tatlim (my sweet), melegim (my angel), askim (my love), sevgilim (my darling)  
> \- If anyone is curious, this is the lullaby I imagine him singing: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SkZS5mN2R2k


	4. Jacob

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who knew the Leader of the Rooks knew how to sing?

"Are you sure you're up to this?" Jacob asks, cupping your face tenderly in his hands.

"Yes, Jacob. We've been through this already." Your arms circle his waist and you hug him reassuringly. "Now, unless you can don a dress and pretend to be a prostitute, you can have this mission by all means. But seeing as you can't-"

"I'm sure I can. It's not that hard."

You laugh, trying to imagine your husband in a dress. "Darling, you would make for one very scary, and not to mention, hairy, prostitute. Jane would go out of business because of you."

He laughs and wraps his arms around you. "Promise me you'll be careful," he says against your neck, giving you a nibble.

"Always. Now," you disengage yourself from his embrace, "are you sure you're up to watching Emmett by yourself? I could still call Clara to give you a hand-"

He silences you with a kiss. "He's, what, a year old? Of course I can handle him. I am Jacob Frye, leader of the Rooks. If I can handle a bunch of cutthroats, I can handle a baby."

He walks you to the door. Just as you're about to leave, Emmett starts crying. Instinctively, you turn from the door and gaze up the stairs toward his room.

Jacob stops you. "Go," he says, placing his hands on your shoulder and steers you toward the door again. "You have work to do. The sooner you leave, the sooner you can get back."

He gives you one last kiss goodbye before he nudges you out the door. 

You make your way down the street, towards Madam Jane's bordello. Jacob was right. The sooner this job was done, the sooner you could get home. You looked back one last time. The front door was shut.

You hesitated in your tracks. This was your first real mission after giving birth, and the first time you would be away from your son for more than an hour. This was also the first time Jacob would be watching him alone. 

Usually you left the baby with Clara. She proved a very able sitter. Sometimes you asked Elizabeth, one of Jacob's trusted Rooks who also happened to be a wet nurse. You didn't really enjoy the idea of your own baby feeding off the teat of another, especially when she took on other infants to nurse, but she was very good in the matter of caring for them and that set your mind at ease. 

Tonight, Jacob had insisted he could care for Emmett by himself. "He is my son, after all," he had said. "What kind of father would I be if I couldn't take care of him?"

You were convinced then. It was a nice to know he wanted to be part of his son's upbringing early on. 

But right now, looking back at your home, thinking about your son...maybe it was a mother's instinct. You wanted to know your baby was safe. You wanted one last look to ease your mind.

You made your way to the house again, and over the fence to the back. Silently, you scaled the wall and made your way to the open window of the baby's room. It was softly lit, the candle burning low. The sound of Emmett fussing reached your ears. You peeked inside, a little worried.

In the middle of the room stood Jacob, holding Emmett in his arms.

"It's alright, son," he said softly. Emmett stilled at the sound of his voice. "Mother will be home soon. For now it's just you and me."

Emmett cooed in his arms. Jacob smiled. "That's my boy. Now I'm afraid it's time for bed. You're far too young to be up this late." 

More cooing from Emmett.

"When you're old enough to handle a knife, then you can stay up this late."

Emmett gurgled in response. 

"Maybe when you're eight I can start teaching you to use a knife. And a gun, although we might have to convince your mother. And when you're old enough, we shall have Uncle Aleck make you your own gauntlet."

Emmett laughed, which made Jacob laugh too.

"You would like that, wouldn't you? Of course you would."

Emmett reached out a tiny hand and grabbed at Jacob's stubble chin. Jacob kissed his son's hand tenderly and stroked his brow. Emmett yawned.

"Time to sleep little one," he said, and surprised you by starting to sing a lullaby.

"Sleep, my baby, on my bosom,  
Warm and cozy it will prove,  
Round thee father's arms are folding,  
In his heart a father's love.  
There shall no one come to harm thee,  
Naught shall ever break thy rest;  
Sleep, my darling babe, in quiet,  
Sleep on father's gentle breast."

His voice was low and sweet, filled with love as he rocked his son to sleep. 

Watching Jacob then, with Emmett in his arms, you knew you had no reason to doubt. The look of love in his face said it all. He would go to the ends of the earth for his son, just as he would for you.

You fought the urge to climb into the room and join them. You knew this time he spent alone with his son was important for both of them. 

And, besides, you still had a job to do.

You silently made your way back down to the ground and off to the brothel. The night was going to be long and dangerous, but you took courage from the fact that when it was over, you could come home to the love of your husband and son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -I originally named his son "Bran" (which means sparrow) in this story, but I changed it to Emmett because I dunno why I didn't use it in the first place. Slipped my mind. ;)  
> \- I came across the term "baby farming", which was actually a thing during the late Victorian era in England, where one would accept custody of a child or infant in exchange for money.  
> \- Baby formula, although already available in this era was expensive, and so were feeding bottles, so babies were often breast fed. Wet nurses were employed by the working class, who could not stay at home to feed their infants because, well, they had to work.  
> \- The lullaby is a traditional Welsh lullaby "Suo Gan" (yes, the same one used in Tears of the Sun) translatd in English. I have come across different kinds of translations on the net and I decided to go with this one: http://www.contemplator.com/wales/lullaby.html  
> Of course, I let Jacob substitute the words "mother" for "father" as well.  
> I tried finding a nice video on youtube of a male singer singing this lullaby but found none. This was the best I could come up with. The men sing in the second stanza. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=miR0HkcH1Ys&spfreload=1


	5. Jacob Frye and the Toddler Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob plays a game of hide and seek with baby Emmett.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was rooting through my unfinished stuff and found this thing. Cleaned it up a bit and voila. Pure fluff.

"Emmett?"

Silence greeted the Master Assassin as he made his way through the house.

"I know you're here," Jacob said playfully as he made his way to the kitchen.

He tiptoed to the cupboard where he knew Emmett liked to hide.

"Gotcha!" he yelled as he yanked the doors open. 

Jacob blinked. There was no Emmett inside. 

"Where are you, you sneaky little boy?"

He looked under tables, inside closets, under the sheets, in every nook and cranny a three and a half year old could possibly fit. He even went so far as to check the toilet.

Still no Emmett.

"Okay, little booger, daddy gives up. Ollie ollie oxen free!"

Still no sign of the boy. Not a single peep.

Jacob was beginning to get worried at this point. He had given the house a thorough once over. He should have found Emmett by now.  
His instincts kicked in and he stopped being a father and started being an assassin, looking for signs of a break-in or a struggle.

There were none.

"Emmett, come out now!" Perhaps the anger in his voice would persuade his son to come out, but his order was greeted with more silence.

Jacob started over, double checking every hiding place again. His panic was blooming, his mind going through all possible things that could have happened to his son: he got stuck, he suffocated, he hit his head and was unconscious.

He checked the front door. It was still bolted from the inside. Jacob went out anyway and checked the perimeter of the house. 

No sign of an intruder, and no sign of Emmett either.

Jacob ran back into the house. 

"Emmett! Please come out. I'm done playing, little Booger." 

How was he going to explain this to his wife? 

Just then, there was a shuffling sound from upstairs. Jacob took the steps two at a time. He reached the top and saw his son there in the middle of the upstairs hallway, wide grin on his face.

Jacob rushed to him, scooped him up in his arms and hugged him tightly.

"I win, papa!" Emmett giggled.

"You sure did, little Boooger. I looked everywhere for you. Where were you? You nearly gave me a scare."

Emmett giggled again. "It was the best hiding place! I went out the window, papa. I hid on the roof!" He was practically jumping with delight at his cleverness, pointing in the direction of the master bedroom. 

"You what?!" Jacob almost died. He couldn't contain the horror and surprise from his voice.

Emmett caught it, and he suddenly stopped bouncing, his face taking on a somber expression.

"Papa mad?" The edges of his little mouth were starting to turn down. His eyes took on the puppy dog look his wife kept saying came from him. Now he understood what she meant when she said she could never stay mad at him when he gave her that look.

He gave his son another hug. "No, Emmett, papa's not mad. Just surprised. How did you get up the window to the roof?"

"I'll show you!" Emmett said, the smile back on his round face in an instant. He wiggled in Jacobs arms, something he did when he wanted to get down.

Jacob put him down and he scuttled away to the master bedroom. Jacob followed close behind. 

"I used mama's chair!" he said pointing to a stool his wife kept by the little vanity. It was pushed right under the dormer window. The roof was just a foot below the outside window ledge, but it was steep. Jacob felt his knees weaken thinking about his son having gone out onto the roof.

Emmett climbed up the stool and sat on the window sill. "See, papa, I can reach the window now."

He started to swing his little legs over the sill. 

Jacob rushed forward and grabbed Emmett. 

"No, Booger, not on the roof," he said, trying to keep the terror out of his voice.

"But you and mama do it all the time. And aunt Evie, and Mr. Henry too."

Jacob sighed. He picked Emmett up in his arms once more and sat on the vanity stool.

"Let's have a serious talk now, okay?"

Emmett settled down on Jacob's lap. "A man talk?"

"That's right, son. A man talk."

Emmett sat facing his father, his serious face on. When papa said they had to have a man talk, he knew he had to be serious, and he had to pay close attention.

"I'm proud that you're able to reach the window sill. That was good thinking using mama's stool."

Emmett beamed again.

"But," Jacob continued, and Emmet's face fell hearing that word, "you shouldn't go out on the roof."

"But you and mama and aunt Evie and Mr. Henry-" he started to protest again.

"I know, son, but mama, aunt Evie Mr. Henry and I are trained to climb walls and run on rooftops. Remember what I said about training?"

Emmett sighed. "Yes, papa. I'm not to do handle weapons and fight until I've had my training."

"That's right."

"But going to the roof is-"

"-part of it, I assure you." Jacob interrupted. "No climbing walls twice as tall as you, and no more going onto the roof, is that clear?"

Emmett hung his head. "Yes, papa." After a beat, he chanced a peak up at Jacob, puppy dog eyes back and at full force.

Jacob knew he should be more stern, to emphasize that what he did was very, very dangerous (especially if mama found out), but the puppy dog eyes just wanted him to coddle the boy. 

He made a mental note to tell his son about that look and its effect on women when he was older. But for now-

"How about you and I take a walk down to the sweet shop and see if they have any chocolates today?"

Emmett's face lit up like Christmas day. His smile was contagious, and Jacob soon found himself smiling back. 

So much for being stern.

They made their merry way to the sweet shop where Jacob let Emmett take his pick. He took a bag of chocolates for himself and some peanut brittle for his mother. When they got home, they were greeted by the smell of dinner wafting from the kitchen.

"Well it looks like you boys had fun," came a voice from the kitchen.

"Mama!" Emmett ran to her, brandishing his chocolates and his gift for her. Jacob followed close behind.

"I hope you didn't spoil your appetite, love," she told Emmett giving him as kiss. She narrowed her eyes at Jacob for buying the sweets.

"I made sure the little Booger only had one," he said, giving his wife a peck on the cheek as well.

"Honestly, why do you insist on calling him that?" she asked, taking away the chocolate from his hand that he was about to pop into his mouth.

"Because he's always sticky, and he ends up in the most unusual places," Jacob said smiling down at his son who had handed him another bit of chocolate.

Jacob and Emmett shared a knowing look. Thankfully, his wife missed it or else there would have been trouble for both of them, regardless of the fact that they had brought her a gift.

"Can we play hide and seek again tomorrow, papa?" Emmett asked as he tried to scale his father's leg.

"Sure, Booger," Jacob said, picking Emmett up. "But next time let's just stick to the downstairs okay?"


End file.
